Football: Nothing but the Premiership for nine-year-olds
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Your support makes all the difference.Last Saturday was a red-letter day in the Blair household, since it was the first football game in the life of baby Blair. Nothing strange about that, you might think: I'm sure most people can recall their first game. Mine was with my dad in the early 1970s: Portsmouth v Charlton at Fratton Park. Pompey hadn't won at home all season, but scraped a 1-0 victory, which I of course attributed to my being there.
So on Saturday I'm sure that Spurs beat Villa for the first time in six years because baby Blair was there, not because Gareth Southgate wasn't. It was a good omen for a first game (actually Wimbledon v Manchester United on the opening day of the season was the very first, but I didn't know baby Blair was there). You see, baby Blair is not actually due to arrive in this world until March, but such is the footballing rivalry in our household, he (or she) already has - football-wise, at least - a split personality.
That's because I support Spurs, but my other half, who is a Rangers fan, follows West Ham down south and is adamant that baby Blair will be registered as a Junior Hammer before he has time to breathe, let alone utter the word White, Hart or Lane. The other problem is that baby Blair will be the fifth generation in a family of dedicated Rangers fans and will doubtless be given a Super Ally teddy bear as a reminder of his heritage.
It would be a shame if he had to support Rangers from afar and survive on the meagre diet of Scottish football afforded by the English media (at least Gazza's given them a reason for covering the Scottish game, if not always for the right reasons). But in fact baby Blair would be no different to the thousands of kids who grow up idolising a big club situated hundreds of miles from their home town, and whose idea of supporting involves possessing the latest replica top, subscribing to the club magazine and having a bedroom festooned with posters of the club's stars.
It's amazing how you can wander along any high street and see kids wearing Manchester United, Liverpool and Newcastle tops, along with the odd England number (although never the grey version), while tops representing the local side are as rare as a new signing at Spurs.
Ruth and Mark Allen are perfect examples of this demographic vagary. School playground codes these days dictate that it's just not hip to be seen wearing a Stockport or Hartlepool top when you can strut around in the latest offerings from the fat cats.
So although Ruth and Mark, thanks to their dad, Richard, are lifelong Swindon fans - nine-year-old Mark has even replaced the Thunderbirds stickers above his bed with a collection featuring Steve McMahon, Mark Walters et al - at school, both nail their colours to a very different mast.
Ruth doesn't dare mention the Robins: "It's too embarrassing, so I talk about Man Utd," she says. Mark, meanwhile, has abandoned Swindon for QPR: "About a quarter of my friends support Man Utd, a fifth of them are QPR. They're always telling me Swindon are rubbish." In other words, if you're a nine-year-old in a playground in south-west London and you support a Nationwide League team, you are bullied and forced to go in goal.
As if that wasn't enough of a problem, the cost of taking kids to football is prohibitive to those kids forming a life-long allegiance with their local side, hence the fan from afar phenomenon. If you can't afford Deepdale or Old Trafford, why not support the Reds and be cool at school, seems to be the creed. But that has led to a lack of atmosphere at many of the smaller grounds, a fact backed up by a survey in next month's FourFourTwo magazine, in which 91 per cent of fans said the atmosphere at grounds wasn't as good as it used to be in the lower divisions.
There does seem to be a tendency to bemoan the lack of a family atmosphere, rather than to adopt a price structure to attract one. But at least some clubs are trying. Leyton Orient, for example, are charging under-16s just pounds 10 for a season ticket (that's 43p per match), while at Wycombe under- 16s pay just pounds 35. And bobble hats off to Bristol City, who have given every adult buying a season ticket in the family stand at Ashton Gate a free season ticket for fans aged 12 and under.
But none of these clubs can hope to compete on the marketing front with clubs such as United (who have enough junior members - 34,156 - to fill over half of Old Trafford) and Spurs. Their club shops stock everything from beakers to bibs and jumpsuits in the hope of catching them young (well, you wouldn't expect Alan Sugar to pass up a marketing opportunity, would you?)
The saving grace for the smaller clubs is a committed parent with enough money and sense to pass on good - and loyal - habits. Of course, what I haven't considered is that baby Blair could grow up hating football - although it's unlikely in a family where even the cat is called Lev Yashin - or be rebellious enough to support local team QPR (at least he'd be supporting Rangers in some shape and form). So it's likely that baby Blair will end up being taken regularly to Upton Park - at least West Ham is one of the few Premiership clubs with a family atmosphere which reflects their sympathetic price structure - and so will be committed to a lifetime forever blowing bubbles.
Sometimes, however, not even dad has the pulling power to sway young loyalties. I recall one eight-year-old whose dad was a committed Gooner, but whose best pal supported Spurs. Since best pal was, at that time, on a pedestal, the boy ended up wearing blue and white instead of red and white. Dad wasn't best pleased, because dad was Liam Brady.
Olivia Blair is assistant editor of FourFourTwo magazine
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